Cooking by Feeling: Honoring Black Culture Through healthy Food

 

Cooking by Feeling: Honoring Black Culture Through healthy  Food

 

 

People learn to express love in various ways. We identify what is available to give, what we can share, and what we will enjoy. From the hugs and hugs, we get our love tongues and speak very well as we become accustomed to speaking and living.

 

Food is the language of universal love, and in black society, this love is deep. It stems from the desire to feed others, to spend time together, to preserve culture, and to live within our means.

 

Although we face the effects of racial inequality, from the loss of life to life in the food desert, one thing we all know is how we can ensure that everyone is nourished.

Eating as a cultural expression

Food is not only a form of love but also a way to build and protect culture.

 

Immigrants retain knowledge of their countries, bringing different names of ingredients and traditional ways of preparing them. Black parents make sure their children and grandchildren learn those words and skills needed to turn them into their favorite dishes.

 

Thus, food becomes a source of memory.

 

Black-eyed peas on New Year's Day call for prosperity for the family, confirming their place on the menu every year. Everyone who eats in that pot remembers the years gone by, who built a peacock with black eyes, and what the elders said about it.

 

Similarly, chicken broth reminds us of a last visit to Jamaica where the right spices and seasonings were purchased and our ancestor shared the secret of the best potato salad.

 

As children, we were called to the kitchen to help with dinner.

 

Take the chicken out of the fridge before Mom gets home. Peel a squash, grate it and squeeze the health for juice. Grate cheese macaroni pie. Wash the rice. Boil the eggs. Rub the cabbage. The pea shell. Dice the onions. Cut the meat.

 

The elders make sure that we learn to do the preparatory work. As we grow older age , our responsibilities increaseble.

 

Go to the butcher and find the right cuts for the meat. Clean the chicken. Look at the pot. Keep pushing, don't give up.

 

No recipe but love

We spend so much time in the kitchen and near the dining room table that memories never fade. When we sit down to eat on special occasions, we do not know which ones will come out for us or for the other people there.

 

We always know what dishes we need to cook for every holiday and event. That is what the new generation needs help with, however, the process.

 

How could we spend so much time helping our elders prepare meals without learning the proper recipes?

 

First, there are no recipes. Even if someone writes down the emphasis on another relative, it is a comparison. There is no pamphlet that can tell you how to turn food into love.

 

Our grandmothers told us to add a handful of cheese. They tell us to cook the pasta until it runs out, and then leave it in the water for a few minutes - but not for too long! They warn us not to wash after draining. They give us measure by hand, but our hands are not their hands. They spice it up with sprinkles, dice, coins, and “just enough.”

 

We want, badly, to talk to us about cups and spoons.

 

They hear our despair when we call them. As they say “ummm” when they find their recipients, we can visualize them, eyes closed, trying to think of something like size, color, or texture.

 

“Please, Grammy,” we think. “Tell me,‘ So much macaroni, so much cheese, so much milk. First do this, then this one, then this one. '”

 

Grammy says, “Just a little bit of this, the list goes on. Make it until it looks like pancake batter. Maybe a little thicker. ”

 

Our elders told us to go and do it. Do what you feel is right. They seem to trust us more than we do.

 

We hunt for recipes, call for accurate measurements and methods. What we remember is how it looked on our plates. Taste. The memory we had we keep having.

 

“What have you been doing all this time cooking?”

 

We complain that we were caught peeling potatoes, but then we hear a Grammy smile.

 

“How many potatoes did you peel?”

 

It all comes back. We know how many potatoes will feed our family. We remember what a mountain of minced cheese looked like. We were not paying attention when the chicken spiced, but we remember what it was like to go into the oven. We can decide how many sprigs of rosemary fit into it.

 

We can remember the color of the spices and the taste, so that we can find it by seeing and smelling as we go.

Black cuisine builds a community

Black adults do not provide recipes. They give us so much. Their menus are protected from our memories. The smell of their kitchen does not leave us. They help us to develop the skills and speed that make preparing the air cool.

 

Now that we are older, black elders give us the freedom to explore for ourselves, with age guidance and delicious food as our foundation.

 

We learn that food is not just science. It's an art. It does not just create emotions, it arises emotionally.

 

We play with sprinkling ingredients “until our ancestors say,‘ Stop, ’” but that is true. We learn to follow our instincts, create, and make every meal an experience, from preparation to post-dessert relaxation.

 

Black cooking is community building. Black food is shared. Dark creation is a daily practice that transforms desire into the formation of new memories.